


The Thing About the Hook Is

by Hopetohell



Category: Hellraiser & Related Fandoms, Hellraiser (Movies)
Genre: Light Bondage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Smut, insufficient prep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:47:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopetohell/pseuds/Hopetohell
Summary: If the wholemeet me at the abandoned slaughterhouseon fuckingHalloweenis a little on the nose, you’re willing to forgive it.Mike has a few things to work through, in his own way.
Relationships: Mike (Hellraiser)/Reader
Kudos: 3





	The Thing About the Hook Is

_Hold still,_ he says and it’s a little breathless, a little eager, but you’ll give him this one because _fuck_ he looks good and if the whole _meet me at the abandoned slaughterhouse_ on fucking _Halloween_ is a little on the nose, you’re willing to forgive it for the way his eyes are nearly black in the low light, the way his mouth is slightly open in concentration as he ties your wrists together, the way you can see him strain his jeans when he brings the hook over to winch your arms up til you’re barely on tiptoe. 

_I know what this is about,_ you start, or try to anyway; he has to duck his head to get at your lips and he is not gentle about it. That’ll bruise, _oh,_ that’ll be a little cut, his sharp canine slicing at your lower lip and you’ll lick at it for days, won’t you. You’ll lick and pick at it to keep it open, keep it stinging, keep his bite with you. 

To keep the feeling of your bare ass in the breeze, chilly and undignified, your shirt hanging open and your nipples pebbling just right for him to bite. But he doesn’t undress in the slightest, only opens his fly so that he juts proudly into the open air; he’s thick and just a little curved and _Jesus, Mike, you ever thought about doing porn? That thing should be classed as a deadly weapon_ and there’s nothing you want more than to get your hands, your mouth, your _anything_ on him but he’s calling the shots and he’s not inclined to be nice about this. 

And Mike looks up to see the point of the hook glittering between your wrists. He strokes his finger along its length and groans while you watch him, watch his eyes and how he has to clench his jaw and breathe steady through his teeth. He takes that same finger and strokes it along your folds, dipping in a little, hitching your leg up so you’re standing like a fucking flamingo while he fingers you roughly. It’s not nice, it’s all friction, but it gets better and better and better as he’s thumbing around your clit like it’s whispering in his ear, as he strokes and presses his fingers in in in. You could come like this, you nearly do, but he’s pulling his hand away with a jerk and a _fucking don’t. You come on my cock or you don’t at all._

_Asshole._

He trails wet fingers down your cheek, down the column of your throat, until his hand fetches up against your sternum. He pauses, then, lost for half a heartbeat until he can gather himself. And then he’s lifting you with his hands under your thighs, he’s jerking forward and missing once, twice until he can get it right, until he slams in to the root in one long terrible perfect thrust. It hurts, you’re not quite ready for him and he knows it in the rational part of his mind, but that part of him is swiftly being overtaken by the orange glow of the sodium lamps, by your soft gasps as your body tries to adjust to him, to the hook. 

Because he keeps glancing up, even as he’s driving into you, and you can see the _blood fear pain need_ burning on his face. His mind reels, spiraling, until it fetches up against the sight of your hands clenching helplessly. And he shakes himself, actually shakes himself like a dog, and it jostles him inside you but it pulls a little focus back into his gaze. It makes him grit his teeth and hitch you up higher, makes him say _okay_ and this time when he buries himself deep he leans down to kiss you. It’s not quite gentle and it’s definitely careless and messy, spit trailing when he breaks away, but it’s a grounding point and it gives him what he needs to thrust in sloppy and wild until he spills inside you, and he slides out to set you on your feet and stroke you til you’re screaming, and he is sweet then. He swallows your screams and takes them inside himself; they reverberate inside him and emerge as gentle sighs. And he frees you, and helps you find the rest of your clothes, and together you leave.


End file.
